


swallow the sun

by lazyfish



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Safeword Use, fear kink, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 03:37:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15788157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish
Summary: Hindsight is the only perfect sight, but Bobbi uses it well.





	swallow the sun

Bobbi is sitting on the bed, breathing in and out through her nose and preparing for what’s to come.

Hunter turns around, carefully holding a needle between his forefinger and thumb. Bobbi swallows, hard. She had asked for this, and they negotiated an entire scene based around her being afraid, but she can feel herself shaking. It’s not the pleasant, anticipatory shaking, or even the kind of fearful shaking that she’d be comfortable with in fear play. She just feels petrified.

“Bobbi,” Hunter’s voice penetrates her consciousness. “Color?”

She wets her lips, trying to calm her breathing. She can’t - she’s beginning to hyperventilate. “Ye… red.” It feels like an admission of defeat. The scene hasn’t even started, for God’s sake! But - she  _ can’t _ .

“Okay.” Hunter turns around and puts the needle into a sharps bin before returning his gaze to her. “Do you want me to stay?”

She shakes her head immediately. She doesn’t want him to see her breakdown. It’s not atypical for her to want some space after a scene; sometimes she clings (especially if she drops hard), but sometimes she needs time to process before allowing him back in for aftercare. 

“I’ll be in the common room. Call if when you want me,” Hunter says. “If you haven’t called in half an hour, I’ll check in, okay?” Bobbi nods to all of this. Thirty minutes is more than enough time to finish breaking down and then clean herself up enough that Hunter will never suspect a thing.

Guilt niggles at her; she shouldn’t lie to Hunter, especially not in this. He can’t be a good dom if she doesn’t express her needs, and if he ever finds out… he’ll be angry, and he’ll have a right to be, too. 

She sighs, reaching for her phone. There’s a brief moment of pause when her brain screams at her just to suck it up and lie, but she tamps down the urge. Hunter picks up almost immediately.

“Bob?” His voice is concerned.

She lets out a broken sob in response.

Hunter’s back even faster than she thought he would be, and she’s launching herself into his arms within a second of the door being open. She tangles herself around him like some sort of infant octopus, trying to touch as much of him as she possibly can.

The crying is ugly - very ugly. Lance rocks her back and forth, sitting on their bed with her in his lap as he runs his hands through her hair. Bobbi’s certain she’s ruined his shirt with her tears, but she knows the moment she tries to suggest such a thing she’ll be met with a derisive snort. Lance doesn’t care about objects; he cares about her. And she cares about him.

That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? She could’ve handled this before  _ he _ had taken her and tortured her, back when needles were still her irrational fear instead of a rational one. And the needles that  _ he _ used on her weren’t as bad as what came after - the waiting for Lance to come through the door, and for him to die in front of her. The aching certainty that Lance was going to die for her still haunts her dreams.

He would have died for her, if she had let him, and she’s sure that he would have done it willingly, too. But she had switched their places, had tried to die for him instead, and…

And all of that is tied up in a tiny little needle. 

That isn’t fear; that’s trauma. In hindsight, both of them should have realized it, but hindsight is the only perfect sight, so Bobbi isn’t expecting any mea culpa statements from either of them. They’ll talk about it, and figure it out together.

Her crying quiets, then stops, but Lance doesn’t let go - which is good, because she doesn’t want him to, and her pride is too battered and bruised already without having to ask him to hold her. 

“Want to talk about it?” Lance whispers.

“Not really,” Bobbi replies, nestling further into him. He smells nice, and the steady thudding of his heart under her ear reassures her immensely. “But I kind of have to, don’t I?”

“Not now, if you don’t want to. Eventually, yes, but.” He shrugs. “I just want you to be okay, love.”

“I still have a fear kink.” Bobbi says firmly. This much she knows, and she doesn’t want this to be the end of exploring that particular kink. “But maybe starting with the greatest of all of my fears was not the smartest idea.” Again with the hindsight.

“Yeah,” Lance agrees. “Table it for the month, maybe?” 

It’s a good suggestion, and she nods. “We can work on your list in the meantime,” she says, attempting a flirty smile as she nuzzles his neck. The effect is rather ruined by her tear stained cheeks, but Lance gives her an amused grin anyways.

“Do you want to do that now?” He means look at the list they had made together of kinks to explore, not actually  _ do _ anything, she knows.

She considers the question, but shakes her head. “I just want to sleep now, honestly.” She’s wrung out.

“Then sleep,” Hunter says simply.

And, safe in the circle of his arms, she does. 

**Author's Note:**

> Not entirely sure how I feel about this one? Fear Kink was one of the squares on my card I was having a harder time with, and this idea kind of came out of the blue, so not sure if it worked as well as I wanted it to.


End file.
